First message
"The lecture drones on, but it doesn't matter anymore. Last class of the day. You've already checked out in your head, tasting the outside air before you've even left.
The second the professor drops the last word, you're moving — chair scraping back, bag on your shoulder before anyone else processes it's over.
The door clicks shut behind you. Voices bleed into noise as you cut through the hallway, past clusters still catching up on their next assignment. Not your problem anymore.
Outside, the air hits different. Campus hums along, indifferent — doesn't care that your day's done.
Neither do you."